


They Who Would Be Called Gods: The Dragon and the Wolf

by Feylaa



Series: They Who Would Be Called Gods [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Almost death of a small child, Alternate Universe - Dragon Age Fusion, Alternate Universe - Skyrim Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Death, Dovahkiin in Thedas, Dragon Age Quest: In Your Heart Shall Burn, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Elder Scrolls Spoilers, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Really Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-In Your Heart Shall Burn, Rating May Change, Read the warning in Chapter 4, Slow Build, Slow Build Dovahkiin/Solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:44:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feylaa/pseuds/Feylaa
Summary: As the Dovahkiin battled Alduin in Sovngarde, the dragon let loose a Shout. Soon, she and the dragon were tumbling out of the sky into a different world. Nothing is the same, but everything is familiar. Spies, thieves, bandits, dragons, wolves. Some monster hell bent on destroying the world. 
 She has been around a long time. Finally! Something new and exciting. She just needs to keep her secrets to herself, and NOT get involved in anything on this world other than defeating Alduin.
But, as lies begin to unravel, Alduin is being corrupted by this Elder One. Who can the Dovahkiin trust in this strange world? Somehow she needs to convince the Inquisition she means to help them. Easy, right?





	1. A Different Kind of Elf

**Author's Note:**

> See bottom for translations.
> 
> I own nothing. 
> 
> Inspiration for this work came from me not being able to sleep at night. I began to think about how hilarious it would be to see this crazy Bosmer Dragonborn in Thedas. Then, it spiraled. I'm pretty sure I don't have any plot other than the story line as it would play out with the Dovahkiin at the Inquisition, but I plan to follow this until after it. We will see where it takes us.
> 
> As of right now, a large amount of the fic is dialog from the game. As it gets farther in, more and more starts happening that's not in either game. I'm not sure how often this will be updated- I am writing this instead of sleeping. And, if I don't post it, I will never work on it again. 
> 
> This takes place right after the breach is sealed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journal Entry:  
> Alduin released a strange and powerful shout. Something opened up and we fell through. 
> 
> The people of this place speak in a strange language I have never heard before, and I don't seem to have access to almost any of my Magica. Problematic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just started playing Skyrim again to get back into the feel of it. And, I should play Inquisition again too. If anything looks wrong, please let me know!

As the Herald finally closed the breach over Haven, a shock wave seemed to pulse through the air, then a sharp crack. Screams pierced the air as a large, gigantic black dragon fell through the sky. Quickly followed by a much, much smaller figure.

 

With a terrible roar, the dragon righted itself midair. Everyone stood wary, not wanting the beast to attack them. All the soldiers prayed to the Maker that this beast ignore them. The Inner Circle stood ready, but weary. The black beasts wings seemed to buckle for a moment, and then it let out a booming sound, turning and flying away. Everyone at the crater that used to be a church seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. Then, Leliana shouted, pointing out the small shape almost reaching the ground.

 

It was a body. And, it landed with a sickening crack.

 

Solas, Varric, and Cassandra were the first to the.... Elvish woman.

 

“Is she...” Cassandra started, only to be finished by Varric.

“Well, Seeker, I don't know of any..” the Dwarf, too, was cut off.

 

The Elf that had landed- and by all rights should have been a literal puddle- blinked open one eye. Then both. The Three around her were shocked. Her eyes held theirs for a split second. Between that heartbeat to the next, she was crouched away from them, holding her right arm to her body, bone protruding from the arm. She snarled at them as one would expect a wild animal.

 

With the Herald passed out on the ground near the wounded Elf, no one dared move.

 

Varric took a deep breath. “ That was a mighty fall you took there. Are you alright?” He ignored the glare from Cassandra. She took a step back away from them.

 

Solas spoke softly. “ Da'len1.. May we help you?” Her ears twitched, but she showed no acknowledgment that she understood him. He hesitated, then asked “ Can you understand me?”

 

The Elf was no longer smiling (likely because no one was moving, Solas thought) She inhaled shallowly, and attempted to hide her grimace. “Ma odill na sing, che?2” Her voice was rough, and her throat sounded raw.

 

This time they stared at her blankly. None present had ever heard this language before. Just as Solas went to speak again, the strange elf wobbled and went pale. Placing her working hand over her broken arm, she looked up. At him specifically, fear blazing in her odd eyes.

“Angua can! Angua can na vasha!3”

 

Solas started to move towards her, his hand glowing. “ I can help you.” Even softer, he added, “Let me try and heal you.” He gestured to her, then hovered his hand over his arm, imitating her break. Her eyes darted around. So, he glanced around him. The soldiers were beginning to pull back in an effort to make her compliant. He turned to look back at her. Slowly, and hesitantly, she nodded.

 

“Are you sure that's a good idea, Chuckles?” Varric questioned, holding Bianca loosely, but firm enough to use her at a moments notice.

 

“ I see little choice, Master Dwarf, if we want her to live.” While he responded, he never took his eyes off this new Elf. Her eyes flicked to where Cassandra stood, and the sound of heavy armor shifting filled the semi-silent air. After a moment, she stared at him again.

 

As Solas moved forward, he began to make out strange features on her. She seemed to have ridges above her eyes. Her skin, which he originally assumed was tanned, seemed to have a hint of green to it. Her eyes were terrifying. They were overly large, and appeared to be almost all black from a distance. There was no white where there was supposed to be. As he neared her, he did notice there was actually red, orange, and what seemed to be gold threaded through the black, giving her a otherworldly look. The left side of her head was shaved, as was most of the other side, with a deep red stripe of hair flipped over the right side of her face, nearly brushing her ear in length.

 

Her armor, too, was a sight to see. It looked to be made of shadows and smoke. Skin tight leathers hugged her body, and a cape that rippled at the slightest movement. The hood seemed to be pushed back with the mask drawn down. A wicked bow and daggers were on the ground near her, but out of reach. Solas had never seen anything like her before.

 

Hiding his excitement, Solas warily knelt in front of her. He placed one hand on her shoulder, and the other moved from her shoulder to hip, not touching her.

 

By Mythal! How was this creature even alive?

 

Solas stared at her in shock. All she did was smile sharply at him. (Fear rolled in his gut. All her teeth were sharp. What WAS she?) His brow furrowed, as he tried to heal her. Every bone seemed to have been shattered and most instantly reformed, weakly. He pushed magic into her, healing and strengthening what had been broken. The protruding bone would need to be placed later in surgery.

 

Once he healed what he was able to, he slowly shifted away from her. She stared at him, and he was unnerved. It felt as though she was Seeing him, seeing everything he was. Slowly, she tilted her head straight down ~~(as one wolf does to another, but still not submitting)~~ in thanks. As Solas stood from the crouch he was in, so did she. He took a step back.

 

The strange Elf just stood there a moment. Then, she held out her good arm, palm up. She held if there a moment, and everyone stood tense. She stared at it, perplexed. Then, she shook her hand vigorously, and held it out again. This otherworldly Elf seemed to be getting more and more concerned as nothing happened. She shook her hand again, hissing as it jostled her still bleeding arm, and snapped her fingers together.

 

Solas, Varric, and Cassandra stared at her in confusion as the strange, feral Elf proceeded to slap one hand against the other, glaring at her hands angrily. She looked up briefly, through her eyelashes, then huffed. Catching everyone off guard, she lunged forward. Solas screwed his eyes shut, and tried to snap a shield around him. Varric loaded a bolt into Bianca, and there was a clang of metal as Cassandra sprang forward. The Elf only grabbed his tunic and pulled him into her, kissing him for a split second, then pushed him away from her as a way of stopping Cassandra.

 

Stunned from the kiss, and from falling into platemaile, it took Solas, and Cassandra, a second to regain themselves. “What was that.” Solas snarled at the Elf, not expecting an answer.

 

“So I could speak, of course.” The trio did a double take. “Well,” the Elf stated, “ how else did you expect me to work that spell? The right way wasn't working. So I improvised.”

 

Cassandra stepped right up into the Elf's personal space, shield and sword held aloft. “ What are you? Who are you? Are you a mage?” Not giving her a moment to answer, Cassandra shifted her sword closer. “ Did you cause the breach?”

 

The strange Elf seemed to ignore the Seeker. Instead, she held her arms out and spun in a slow circle, staring at the sky. “ So THAT is what I fell through. I thought it tasted green.” She tsssked. “But...” she turned to Solas, and her eyes were frightful- too bright, too wild, too full of something Other- “Why does this world taste and smell of wolf?” Solas stiffened.

 

Without giving him time to reply, she turned to Cassandra. “ Good Day!” She faked a curtsy. “ I seemed to have stumbled into your world. Quite an accident too!”

 

“ 'Our world'? What do you mean by that one?” Varric questioned darkly.

 

Cassandra made a disgusted noise, and shifted her shield more in front of her, ready to deflect magic. She then tried to position herself between the threat and Solas. He appreciated the sentiment. “Why are you here?” Cassandra questioned harshly.

 

The Elf stopped, dropped her arms, and turned to them again. The playful demeanor gone in an instant. She drew herself up to her full height. She was matched to Cassandra and infinitely more intimidating. “ I was fighting the World Eater. He shouted and opened a...rift. I assume it led to that, “ she pointed skyward, “ and I fell.” Her face screwed up, and she rambled confusedly, “ I think he did too... His wing hurt.” She seemed to pout at the last part. “Oh!” She brightened. “ You may call me... Deyra!4”

 

Cassandra's eyes narrowed more, if such a thing were possible. “ We may call you?.... this is not your true name?”

 

Deyra snorted. “ I haven't gone by my real name in....” She looked downtrodden and broken, but it was gone so fast that it may have been imagined, “...a very long time.”

 

“We must go back to our stronghold. But we cannot leave an unknown force. Would you cooperate?” Cassandra stood firm, ready for attack, but no longer threatening. Solas nodded and smiled sagely, intrigued by this odd Elf. Varric seemed to be his easy going self again.

 

“How did you manage to even survive that crazy landing, Flame?” Varric asked with a sidelong glace at her.

 

“Flame?” Deyra asked, amused. Varric laughed and gestured at his hair, mimicking her hairstyle.

 

“Yes, how exactly did you not die from that?” Cassandra pushed.

 

“As I said, Alduin helped break my fall. As for the rest... I am made of sturdy stuff.” Deyra smirked and tapped on her stomach. “You wish me to cooperate? Fine.” She nodded, and seemed to zone out for a split second. Her eyes snapped back to Cassandra, who gulped. “Bind me, and blind me. It matters little to me.” She spoke almost dismissively. As Cassandra walked up to her, pulling bindings out of a side pouch, Deyra's eyes found some of the red lyrium crystals. She bristled. Pointing, she shakily asked “What is that.. corruption? That taint. It feels...” She trailed off, mumbling to herself, but holding her hands out for the Seeker to bind.

 

Solas stepped up beside her, Varric following. “That is lyrium. However, it is ordinarily a glowing bright blue. You said corruption? A taint?” He frowned at her, then stared at the crystals. Then, he continued passed Deyra, and made his way to the Herald.

 

Cassandra pulled a blindfold over her eyes. Once it was tied, Deyra passed out, falling into the Seeker.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Da'len  
> Child, Young Person~(Ancient Elvhen)  
> 2Ma odill na sing, che?  
> What Land is here(this), Elf?~(Bosmeri/Aelidoon Language)  
> 3 Angua can! Angua can na vasha!  
> My magic! My magic is gone!~(Bosmeri/Aelidoon Language)  
> 4 Deyra!  
> Deadra!~(Draconic)


	2. The Collapse of Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journal Entry:  
> This small villiage is coming down around our ears. The people need to find a way to escape.  
> Also, I never know when to mind my own buisiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hasn't been long since I've updated, I know. But, reading the couple comments, and seeing all the Kudo's made me so happy. No promises that I can keep updating this fast, but you guys made my week.
> 
> Also, Cullen and Inquisitor angst.  
> <3
> 
> As before, I own nothing.

Deyra awoke on a plush bed, but her hands were still bound. She tested the bindings and chuckled to herself. "At least I am not on a cart this time. Or a prison. Or a ship." she spoke out loud, to herself. Or so she thought. The blindfold that was covering her eyes was ripped off. "Rude." Grumbling, she blinked rapidly for a moment. Adjusting to the now much brighter room. A redhead sat in a chair next to the bed. She reminded Deyra of a Nord.

"They say you fell from the breach. And then landed on a dragon's wing, falling from a height that would kill anyone else." Her green eyes narrowed accusingly. "Who are you?" The redhead was leaning back in the chair, legs crossed, and arms folded. The picture of nonchalance.

Deyra carefully looked around the room, taking stock of where she was. A small, sparsely decorated room and a small fire going, keeping the chill out. Her eyebrows rose, and she hummed low in her throat as she realized the bone was no longer sticking out of her arm. Looking back at the Nord-like woman, she stared at her. The redhead almost managed to hide her flinch. Deyra's lip curled above her elongated teeth. "None of my names or titles will mean anything to you...spy." Hm. It seemed her armor and weapons had been taken from her, too. She was all but wearing rags.

The redhead bristled, ready to snarl out something in response. Deyra continued, ignoring her. She stared at the fire, frowning. “ I was in Sovngarde, battling the World Eater- the dragon I landed on- and he Shouted, ripping a hole in your...veil? It pulled me through as well.” She looked back at the other woman. “ I am not from this world. I hail from a place called Nirn.”

She stared at Deyra, as though trying to find fault in her story. “I see.” She responded evenly, though skeptically. “Another world?” Deyra nodded. “I would have never imagined it possible.” Another nod. “You say you have other, possibly many, titles and names?”

Deyra threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, Koraavtaffir1, I have names and titles unending. I tend to gain new ones, it seems, on monthly basis.” She smiled as she saw the redhead begin to get frustrated. The spy's lips were pale and bloodless in the frown she wore.

"What did you ca-" The ground shook, and a deafening roar shook the very air. Both women stared at each other, all signs of hostility gone. People began to scream. Shouting reached through the door of the cabin.

“Dragons!”

Both Deyra and the spy jumped and ran to the door. Deyra yanked the door open with her now free hands. The redhead sputtered, but Deyra silenced her with a look. Snow-blindness stopped them both in their tracks for a split second.

“ Do you have any spare bow and arrows?” Deyra questioned.

“Perhaps. Why should I trust one to you?”

“Because I want to live.” She gestured to herself, then to the redhead. “Do YOU want to live through this night?” Deyra sneered. “Two dragons bear down on us from the skies.” Her brows furrowed, feeling something tainted and not right. “And....something vile approaches from that way.” She turned a bit, pointing to the mountaintop in front of where the gate was.

“Fine. Come quickly. We are likely needed at the gate then.”

Both women took off into a sprint, Deyra running behind the spy. She was led to what looked like a church.

“Sister Leliana!” Some maids, one an Elf, yelled to the duo as they entered. “ Do you know what is happening?”

“Dragons are attacking. And maybe something more. Charter.” The only Elf saluted. “Start getting civilians in here.”

“Yes, Leliana.”

Leliana pushed a door open and stepped into it. It was the makeshift armory. Deyra grinned, but it fell at the sight of the weapons quality.

“I know they are not the best quality. But, at the moment, it is all we have.”

Deyra nodded. "I have done far more, with far worse." She plucked a sturdy wooden bow and two quivers of arrows. Attaching one to her back, and the other to her hip, she grabbed two more and slung them over her shoulder. She then tested the draw of the bow. "It will do."

The pair made their way to the gates.

A large group of people was there. Leliana made her way to the front, while Deyra stuck to the fringe.

“-banner?” A dark skinned woman asked.

The intimidating blond man turned to her, grim expression. “None.”

“None?”

Some sort of explosion happened just outside the heavy gate. Everyone stopped and stared at it. A human- one who had Destiny written in her stars- cautiously stepped forward.

"If you could open this, I'd appreciate it!" A muffled male voice came from the other side of the gate. The human rushed forward, and a guard pushed the gate open. The smell of burnt flesh and hair permeated the air. Crouched in the middle of a charred circle littered with bodies, a tanned man crouched. The Destiny-bound human and the blond man rushed out. "Ah! I'm here to warn you. Fashionably late, I'm afraid." The man stood, slowly and out of breath. Suddenly, he staggered and began to fall. The blond man caught him. "Mite exhausted. Don't mind me." This new man seemed to shrug off his exhaustion. He planted his feet firm, leaning on his staff. "My name is Dorian Pavis, and I bring grave news from Redcliffe- an army of Rebel mages, right behind me." His voice turned grimmer. "They are under the command of the Venatori, in service to something called "The Elder One.' "

He took half a step back, and pivoted, pointing to the mountain Deyra pointed at not long ago. “The woman is Calpernia. She commands the Venatori. For that... Elder One.”

In the far distance, they were barely able to make out a monstrous man, towering over a petite female figure. The... Elder One was grotesque. Dorian continued. “They were already marching on Haven. I risked my life to get here first!”

The female who rushed out turned to the blond, nobility lining her every word. “Cullen! Give me a plan! Anything!”

Cullen looked thoughtful for a moment. “Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand that monster, we must control the battle.” He shifted. “Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can!” She nodded. He turned and pulled his sword. “Soldiers! Gather the villagers! Fortify and watch for advance forces!” He stepped in front of his men, the woman at his side. “Inquisition!” He shouted over the din of armor. “With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!”

Leliana stared hard at Deyra. Deyra just nodded to her. She would hold this gate. The Commander was a good leader. He inspired his troops, and Deyra would not fail in keeping who she could safe.

The Herald turned to the people still clustered just inside the gate. “Vivienne, Blackwall, Cassandra. With me.” Those three nodded and stepped forward. “Varric, Cole, Sera, keep to the shadows and route the enemy where you can. The rest of you, get the people to safety!” She turned on her heel, clearly used to being listened to.

Everyone broke off into a run, getting into position. Deyra looked around, then scaled the scaffolding that was next to the gate. And, for the next hour, she kept every enemy from coming through. Every arrow landed in a helmet, or through a throat. Well practiced skills were still with her. The continuous motion of draw-release had her fall into an almost trance.

Out of nowhere, her head whipped to the left. Alduin was near. Her grip on the bow tightened, and it groaned. Without looking, she fired a few more shots at the stragglers. She watched as the Herald and her party, along with one other man, came around the bend. Deyra's eyes narrowed, and she turned to them and aimed.

By the time the arrow made it to them, no one had time to move. It passed over the Heralds' shoulder, and over Blackwall's. As they turned, the arrow seems to float midair. Then, the air shimmered and a rogue fell, an arrow through his eye. Blackwall whistled. They finished making their way to the gate. Piles of bodies greeted them.

“You held this yourself?” The Herald asked Deyra, who nodded. “Please, come with me to the Chantry. We need to regroup.”

Deyra nodded again. Cullen pushed the door open and shouted. "Move it, move it!" A dragon flew overhead, and Deyra jumped next to Cullen to avoid being seen by it. "We need everyone back to the Chantry! It's the only building that might hold against...that beast!" He started up the steps, then turned, looking defeated. "At this point... just make them work for it." They all ran to the Chantry. Dead bodies littered the ground everywhere.

“We managed to get every person to the Chantry.” Cullen spoke quietly. “For all the good it will do.” The Herald bit her lip.

“ **DOVAHKIIN** ”

The shout rent the air around everyone, sending all but Deyra to their knees. When the others finally stood, Deyra pushed them on. “We need to reach this Chantry before Alduin comes. He seeks me. I shall find him once I know all are safe.”

Finally, they made it to the Chantry. The doors were pushed open by a guard, and Dorian, along with a bleeding man in a white, red, and gold robe followed. The dying man stepped forward, beckoning them in. "Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!" The party sprinted in, closely followed by a ball of dragon fire. Deyra looked back, only to see the man begin to collapse. Dorian caught him and help him hobble along with the Herald.

“A brave man. He stood against a Venatori.”

“Briefly. I am no Templar.” His voice was thin. On the cusp of death.

Cullen rushed forward. “Herald! Our position is not good.” The Chantry shook. “Those dragons stole back any time you might have earned us.” Dorian helped the man sit on a chair. “There has been no communication, no demands. Only Advance after advance.”

Dorian spoke, crouched next to the robed man. “There was no bargaining with the mages, either. This Elder One takes what it wants. From what I gathered in Redcliffe, it marched all this way to take your Herald.”

The Herald bit her lip, looking frightful. Then, she stood straight and looked at Dorian. "I don't care what he wants. How do I stop him?"

“Trust me,” He looked almost angry, “ that is not information I would keep to myself.” He began to smirk. “And such a promising start with the landslide.” he chuckled, “If only trebuchets remained an option.”

Cullen looked more hopeful. “They are, if we turn the last of them to the mountains above us.” He turned to the Herald.

“We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven.”

Cullen nodded. “This is not survivable _now._ The only choice left if how spitefully we end this.”

Deyra snorted as she tried to conceal a laugh. Dorian smirked, but turned and walked over to Cullen. “Well, that's not acceptable. I didn't race here only for you to drop rocks on my head.”

“I agree. I just came to this world, and would like to see more than just snow.” Deyra grinned at the Herald.

“Should we submit?” Cullen threw his arms in the air, getting worked up. “Let him kill us?” He was practically in Dorian's face by that point.

The tanned man stood his ground. “Dying is typically a last resort, not first!” His tone darkened. “For a Templar, you think like a blood mage!”

“There is a path.” The dying man interrupted the other two. “You wouldn't know it was there unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage. As I have. The people can escape.” His conviction grew, outweighing the mortal wound- for the moment. “She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could...tell you.” He stood and faced the Herald

“What are you on about, Roderick?” Was her eloquent response.

“It was whim that I walked the path. I did not mean to start, it was overgrown. Now, with so many in the conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers... I don't know Herald. If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. _You_ could be more.” Deyra looked on intently from the shadows. This could be an important time. The Herald looked taken aback. Sadness flashed over her face, but she was steady, even, in her response.

“If that thing is here for me, I'll make him fight for it.”

Cullen stepped towards her, reaching a hand out, then apparently thought better of it. “ And when the mountain falls? What about you?”

This Herald looked down. Regret clear on her face as she took in Cullen's words. Dorian chimed in. “Maybe you _can_ surprise the Elder One.” His voice was hopefully-grim.

Cullen spun on his heel, clearly upset. “Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick though the Chantry. Move!”

Dorian helped Roderick stand. The Herald looked at them, clearly shying away from Cullen. "Herald..." She looked to the Chancellor. "If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this...I pray for you." She flinched but hid it as a slight bow. Dorian helped the man walk away.

Cullen came storming back, arm held out, soldiers rushing to the door. “They'll load the trebuchets.” His voice cracked. “Keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the tree line.” The Herald turned, and walked away without another word to the Commander. He watched her walk away sadly.

Deyra stepped out of the shadow, siding up to Cullen. “I will keep her safe. And bring her back. I feel as though she has more to do than end here.”

Cullen started, and then faced her. "Can you do that?" He shook his head. Louder, so the Herald could hear, he stated, "If we are to have a chance- if _you_ are to have a chance- let that thing hear you.” He stepped back and walked away.

The Herald was talking to the group gathered around her as Deyra came closer. “-ian, you need to stay with these people. Iron Bull, with me. Cole as well, and you Solas. Sera... please don't prank anyone.” A blonde Elf stuck her tongue out, but nodded. “Everyone else...just...stay safe.” With that, the Noble walked to the door.

Deyra ducked into the armory again to refill her quiver. By the time she left it, she was alone in the Chantry. Quickly, she ran out the door, following the footsteps of the Herald.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Koraav|taffir~Draconic  
> Perceive Thief (ie: Spy)
> 
>  
> 
> All translations are from thuum .org, the Dragon Age wiki, the Elder Scrolls wiki, or the Thedas Language Project.


	3. Two Dragons, One Magister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journal Entry:  
> I seem to have a knack for getting myself into GIANT MESSES. Likes crazy dragons. And even crazier magic wielders. I need to get these people to trust me. Perhaps I need to show off some of my skills?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I have been trying to get the next chapter done, but it seems to be alluding me. I have not abandoned this work! Your comments and Kudo's mean the world to me.   
> No beta reader, but I am using Grammarly. Let's see how much better these chapters are haha.
> 
> As ever, I own nothing.
> 
> Sorry this is so short.  
> (Spoiler: The next chapter just seems to keep going.)

Bodies littered the ground everywhere. The snow was rapidly turning icy from the blood that had been spilled. Over to the left, a massive fire burned the houses. She followed the sounds of fighting. But, not matter how fast she tried catching up to the Herald, the group was always just out of sight. They seemed to be a capable group of fighters, at the very least.

 

By the time Deyra caught up the fast moving group, they were already at the trebuchets, large groups of enemies falling to their weapons, but even more coming. She kept to the outskirts, firing arrows fast and sure. The...man who the Herald called Iron Bull was a brute. He had strange purple-grey skin that would seem more at home on a Dunmer, and horns that seemed better fitting a dragon than a person. Cole flitted about, faster than what should have been possible. The Herald herself was in the thick of the fighting. The shield she used seemed to be an extension of herself, and Solas kept himself out of the thick of battle as much as possible. The male Elf was using so much magica that Deyra, as decimated as her magic was, could practically taste it in the air. 

 

Waves upon waves of enemies seemed to throw themselves at the group. Iron Bull was taking what seemed to be heavy damage, but each the plated enemies landed a blow to him, he just hit the enemy that much harder. Her arrows landed true most of the time, picking off the mages that kept themselves out of the frey. The Herald and Iron Bull kept yelling and taunting their enemies, trying to keep them off Solas. Deyra was also keeping an eye on the powerful mage. Suddenly, his shield dropped. A cloaked enemy appeared from behind him, daggers poised, ready to strike his unprotected back.

 

Deyra, with deadly precision, loosed an arrow that skimmed between Solas' neck and shoulder. It sunk into the neck of the rogue behind him, who fell back from the force of the blow. The Elf raised a hand in thanks. The Herald had been surrounded during that interlude. She kept circling, deflecting blows with sword and shield alike. Between blows, she was twisting fast, and pummeling people with the edge of the shield, and the pommel of the sword. Quickly, the circle around her fell. Well, Deyra mused to herself, at least this one knew how to fight.

 

There was an almost silent rustle to her left. Before she could turn, one of the rogues made to attack her. He stopped, gurgling. Cole appeared from behind him, already disappearing again. The felled rogue had its throat slit. Deyra narrowed her eyes and stared speculatively at Cole. He would have made a good Brother. 

 

There was a lull in the fighting. The others seemed to rest, but the Bosmer didn't trust the laps. True to form, a group of the enemy ran at them, jumping up from everywhere, it seemed. But, amongst the plated enemies, there was a single mage. Bile rose in the back of Deyra's throat. There was something wrong with this mage. Something horribly wrong.

 

"Fiona?!" The Herald yelled. The mage seemed to hunch into herself. Soon, however, she was quick to cast blasts of magic. The Herald yelled, and shoved her shield in front of herself, deflecting the magic away. That seemed to be the cue for everyone to start fighting again. Deyra drew an arrow but did not release it. Quarters were much tighter than before. The plated enemies seemed to be attempting to corral her companions closer to this mage. With a slight amount of success. Deyra began to pick off the ones corralling everyone. 

 

Fortunately, the Heralds company seemed to realize what was happening. As soon as the plated enemies began dropping, they all turned to the mage. Huge amounts of magic were being slung around, only for a portion of them to slide off the others. Barriers then. (Praise the Divines, Deyra thought.) Once the other enemies were picked off, Deyra had to wait. She didn't want to send an arrow into the wrong person. That would not send the message she wanted. Finally, the Herald lunged forward and buried her sword into Fiona's gut. Even from the distance, she hid at, Deyra could see the look of gratitude the woman felt. Fiona slumped, and the Herald slid her sword out, pushing the mage off her. 

 

The Herald limped over to the trebuchets and took a stance at the wheel. She began turning it, her companions seeming to stand guard over her. Deyra stepped from out of the bushes. Everyone went on the defensive. Solas seemed to recognize her, regardless of the simple clothes she now wore. "Ah! Deyra, was it? I had wondered if it was you aiding us with ranged support." 

 

Deyra nodded to the other Elf. “Solas.” The trebuchet finally clicked into place. The Herald stepped back, still looking at the device that seemed to spell her doom. The woman quickly backpedaled upon seeing a dragon coming at them. Everyone started to move away from the trebuchet.

 

“Move!” The Herald shouted. “Now!”

 

A booming voice shook the heavens. “ **Dovahkiin!** **Zu'u lost daal.** "1 A void-black dragon flew over the other. 

 

“What the fuck is that! Is it talking?” Iron Bull muttered.

 

**“Pahlok joorre! Zu'u Alduin. Zok sahrot do naan ko Lein!”** **2**

 

Deyra stared upwards and bared her teeth at the dragon. "That is Alduin." The first dragon sudden swooped down on them, letting loose a breath of what looked like red lightning. The bile returned. Everyone jumped to the sides, dodging the spray. It spat out another mouthful, and this time, it landed near the Herald. The woman went flying through the air, rolling a few feet away. 

 

**“Nust wo ni qiilaan fen kos duaan! Corypheus fen nahkip bahloki!”** **3**

 

Out of the explosion that sent the Herald flying, the monstrous Elder One walked. The Herald stood shakily, and backed up, limping. The Elder One just continued to approach. His skin was ashen, pulled taunt over a too large, too thin body. Red crystals seemed to be growing out of him, and there was no way to tell where his skin ended and tattered robes began. Deyra was having a hard time focusing. Something was too loud, buzzing in the back of her head, and her stomach churned violently.

 

The ground shook, and the dragon who was not Alduin landed. Deyra released a small breath when it didn't eat the Herald. She looked around her, seeing axes on the ground. Slowly, she picked up two. She almost fell to her knees when the dragon roared to the sky. There was no words, no intelligence behind it. It was a mindless beast. But...something was wrong with this dragon, just as there was something wrong with the mage, and with all the enemies they fought. And, this Elder One seemed to be dripping with the wrongness.

 

"Enough." The Elder One finally spoke, releasing a blast of the red lightning. The Herald just kept trying to back up, shakily. The Dragon now separated Deyra from the Herald. (Deyra didn't know when the others left, other than she shrugged off Solas' attempt at pulling her with him). "Pretender.You toy with powers beyond your ken.” He zeroed in her. “No more.” He spat.

 

The Herald stood strong. “Whatever you are, I am not afraid!” Alduin circled above, ominous, and as black as the void.

 

The monster seemed amused for a moment. “Words mortals often hurl at the darkness. Once they were mine. They were always lies.” Even from the distance he was at, he towered over the small human. “Know me. What you have pretended to be.” He tried to grin, but his face wouldn't let him. “Exalt the Elder One! The _will_ that is Corypheus!” He reached a gaunt arm out, pointing with clawed fingers. “You will kneel.”

 

“You'll...you'll get nothing out of me!”

 

"You will resist." He seemed bored. "You will always resist. It matters not." He held up something gold and circular that Deyra thought looked like came from the Dwemer ruins on her world. He looked at it, and it lit up with the red lightning. Deyra ignored him for now. "I am here for the _Anchor_. The process of removing it starts now.” She couldn't help the Herald unless the dragon was dead.

 

Several things happened all at once. Corypheus threw out his hand, still talking, and the Heralds green hand lit up. Deyra spun the axes in her hands once, getting a feel for them. Then, she lunged at the beastly dragon, who roared viciously. This dragon was so much larger than any she had seen before. But, in the end, it mattered little. It lunged at her, mouth almost reaching her. She battered it away at the last moment, then flung herself on top its head. Dazed, it shook, trying to dislodge her. Staying steady despite the movement, she smashed the axes in its head multiple times. With a final roar, she used all her strength to bury both axes into either side of its skull. It let out a bellowing death-rattle its lifeblood gushed out.

 

Only a trickle of a soul leached into her. She looked at the dead dragon strangely. Before she could turn, Corypheus, enraged, threw the red lightning at her, pushing her far away from the Herald and himself. The Herald used Deyra's distraction and fired the trebuchet. The Herald took off, as the Elder One watched the snow come down, burying his army. The second dragon, whom Deyra had called Alduin, swooped down and carried off Corypheus. As the Herald sprinted, she looked for the female Elf. As soon as she saw her, she bent down, trying to rouse her. 

 

Deyra was quick to get up. "We need to move!" The Herald yelled to the Elf, trying to pull her along. Snow rumbled at their backs, quickly gaining on them. Deyra's eyes widened comically, and she was fast to follow the Human. The Herald seemed to be going straight, but something to the side caught Deyra's attention. There seemed to be a small seam in the snow. Catching the other woman's arm, Deyra yanked her over to it and jumped. 

 

The Elf pulled the Herald into her as they fell down the shaft, slapping a hand over her mouth as she went to scream. The young woman was trembling in fear- and possibly partially from the cold. Deyra hugged the Herald tightly to herself and braced for pain. 

 

It did not disappoint.

 

There were several sickening cracks. A high-pitched whine sounded in her ears. (She did not realize they were from herself.) Then, blissfully, Deyra blacked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Dovahkiin! Zu'u lost daal."1 ~Draconic  
> Dragonborn! I have returned. 
> 
> “Pahlok joorre! Zu'u Alduin. Zok sahrot do naan ko Lein!”2 ~Draconic  
> Arrogant mortals! I am Alduin. Most mighty of any in the World! 
> 
> “Nust wo ni qiilaan fen kos duaan! Corypheus fen nahkip bahloki!”3 ~Draconic  
> Those who (do) not bow will be devoured! Corypheus will feed (my) hunger. 
> 
>  
> 
> All translations taken from the official wiki.


	4. A Long and Cold Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journal Entry:  
> Gods damn the snow. There was too much, and it was too cold. Gods damn demons too.  
> Actually, Gods damn this whole realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter has a small part with a baby that is close to passing. If you want to skip it, DO NOT READ BETWEEN THE DOUBLE LINE BREAKS.   
> The single line breaks only have a small flashback. The double breaks- also being the second set of breaks- have the above-warned scene in it.
> 
> This was a huge thing I struggled with, and tried to figure out other ways to have a breaking moment in here. But, this was the best way that I have thought to set up things into motion for later.
> 
> I'm sorry this has taken me so long to update! I hit a funk with writing, and life happened, and now I'm moving to my own place in a week! Exciting!  
> But, I'm trying to get back into the swing of this.

When she next came to, breathing burned. She greedily sucked in the air despite the pain. The black spots that danced in her vision slowly faded. Deyra then began to hear teeth chattering, that wasn't hers. Painfully, and slowly, she turned her head to the side. The Herald was curled up along the wall, shivering, cradling her green glowing hand to her chest. Deyra looked around her as best she could. It seemed they were lucky enough to fall into what looked to be an old mining shaft. The way the fell in looked to be sealed by the huge amount of snow that had chased them into it. It was dark, and hard to see.

Her mouth tasted coppery. “Are you alright?” she croaked out. The blood bubbled in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down.

The Herald bolted up, eyes wide. She stared at Deyra in fear. “How?!.. How are you alive? You...you were dead! I checked. You weren't breathing, and you were so cold-” Her eyes went flat. “Oh.” Her tone was broken. “No. please no. Please don't be a demon. I can't handle that right now.”

Deyra groaned and tried to sit up, only to fall back. “N..not a demon.” She hissed sharply through her teeth as she managed to sit up this time. “Though, I am not quite sure what a demon is. We do not have them where I am from. Perhaps they are similar to Daedra?” She scooted to the wall opposite the Herald and leaned against it heavily. “I wish I had my magic. Or potions. Or...oh. Hey, do you think they managed to grab my gear and the pack I had with me?” She held an arm around her cracked ribs tenderly. Her whole body burned. Deyra tried accessing her magic again. Only to be met by a yawning void of nothingness. A tiny spark sizzled, but it was hardly substantial enough to do anything with.

The Herald stared at her, eyes hard, but her face looked curious and hesitant. "Probably not." She answered. Then, "What are you?" She asked softly.

Deyra locked eyes with her. "I am Destiny-born. Same as you." The Herald shook her head in denial. "My name was writ in the annals of the Elder Scrolls before time began." She cradled the spark that was her magic, trying to coax warmth from it. She held her more warm than cold hands to the Herald, who took them. Rubbing warmth back into the half-frozen woman, Deyra asked her "What is your name, Herald?"

Between chattering teeth, the Human answered. "Evelyn Trevelyan, the second child of Bann Trevelyan."

“You are of Noble birth.”

Evelyn quirked her lips into a half smile briefly. “I thought you said you were not of this world.” She moved closer to the Elf, trying to find warmth.

Deyra laughed quietly, clutching at her ribs. “One does not need to know anything about you, or this world to see this.” She eased back to the wall now that the Herald sat at her side. “You are Noble, by family or no. It is in the way you walk. The way you hold yourself. The way you speak.” She gestured with one hand. “Were you born a peasant, you would still be Noble. I claimed you to be Destiny-born. I am not mistaken in this.”

Evelyn ducked her head, body trying to blush.

“You are young yet.” Deyra continued on. “I was once like you.” The Human stared at her. “Thrust into a too big, too great destiny while I was too young and naive. Knowing nothing about what my fate was to be.” Deyra turned her head, eyeing Evelyn.

The hairs on the back of Evelyn's neck stood on end, but she did not look away.

Deyra smiled softly and nodded. "So be it." She struggled into a kneeling position in front of the Human. "I, Feyilian Nightthorn, pledge my aid in ending the threat that Alduin places on your world. And, perhaps, I can also aid in ending this Elder One." She saluted Evelyn as she had seen the soldiers do. She grinned at the Herald. "Though, I would still prefer to be called Deyra." Her grin fell, and she had a solemn look on her face. (It made the Elf look ages older than usual, Evelyn thought to herself.) "I swear this to you, Evelyn Trevelyn. Not this Inquisition that you are part of. My loyalty shall lie with you."

Clearly, this touched something in the Human. She was blinking tears away. Well, Deyra thought to herself, she always had a knack for finding those who held Greatness and allying herself with them, for better or for worse. Why would she stop now?

“What say you Evelyn Trevelyn. Do you accept this oath?”

The Herald sat tall- looking every bit Noble despite where they were. “I accept your oath to me, Deyra, Feyilian Nightthorn.

Deyra sat back against the wall. “I wonder...Evelyn, please do not freak out on me here.” She took the deepest breath she could- but it was too shallow to do much. “ **YOL”** Even her whisper gently shook the cave. A small sputter of flames burst from her throat. Evelyn cried out and fall away from her. Deyra's throat burned (as it did every time) but it was worth it for the warmth.

 

“What kind of magic is that?!” Evelyn stared at her, in equal parts awe and terror.

“That! That is what makes me Dovahkiin! She laughed heartily. “And now, Herald, we must move.”

Bracing her back against the wall, she shuffled up, groaning. Evelyn was quick to stand and help her, throwing the taller woman's arm over her shoulder. “You're very tall for an Elf. And...very odd looking.” Evelyn blushed again, looking away.

The pair slowly made their way through the tunnels. “Maybe for this world. Where I hail from, there are Elves more than a foot taller than me. Some Bosmer- that is what I am- have other facial features. I have these ridges.” Deyra touched the ridges that made up her eyebrows. “There have been Bosmer who have had even antlers.”

Evelyn snorted. “That just seems rather fantastical, I'm afraid.”

"Just so. This world is very different from mine. The magic especially. It is so hard to reach to. It feels like something is blocking my attempts at casting. A wet blanket, as it were."

Eve looked thoughtful. “That may be because of the Veil.”

“Veil?”

Evelyn nodded. "Yes. I don't know everything mind you, but there is.... a barrier between this world and the Fade. The Fade is where mages pull their powers from. The place of dreaming." There was a bright flash of green from the Heralds' hand, and she flinched.

Deyra's eyebrows rose. “What is that?”

“I don't quite know. Corypheus claimed it to be something he created to open the Fade so he could enter it again.” She frowned at it. “A headache is what it is.”

Deyra stopped. “May I examine it?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Can you? You say you cannot work magic anymore.”

“There is something I can feel off of it. Would it bother you? I can do it as we walk.”

“You may.” (It was not the first time a mage requested to look at it. Nor the last, Evelyn guessed.)

Deyra focused completely on the mark, allowing Evelyn to guide them both through the caverns. She still had that tiny spark of magic left in her, and she used that to feel out what was inside Evelyn's hand. She inhaled sharply as she felt it. It was HUNGRY. It demanded to be fed.

“You are no mage, correct?” Evelyn hummed a confirmation.

The presence Deyra felt was vicious and unforgiving. It hungered for magic.

She jerked out of the light meditation she was in as Evelyn pulled her back away from the entrance of another cavern. Something around the corner was hissing and shrieking.

Deyra looked down at Evelyn. "It is demons." Evelyn's words were barely audible. "A side effect of the breach. Demons fall out of it and rifts. Usually, they stay near the rifts, but sometimes they wander away from them."

“Demons come from the Fade, then? They have magic?” Evelyn nodded. Deyra grinned. She pulled the Human from around the corner, holding the woman's green marked hand aloft. She dug her feet into the ground, bracing herself. The demons lunged at them. Deyra delved back into the magic on the Herald's hand. It clawed at her, but she pushed it back with the might of her Dovah soul. Sweat dripped from her brow as she threw the magic at the grotesque creatures before her.

A green ball that looked like the breach crackled amongst the demons, flaring open into a rift. It sucked them all back into it, as hungry as the mark had been, then shuddered into nothingness.

“I apologize Evelyn. I violated the trust you gave to me.”

Evelyn stared in shock, looking between her palm, where the demons once were, and to Deyra herself. “I felt it. It took some of the pain away. But...what did you do? How did you do that?!” She seemed...excited.

The Dragonborn looked pensive. “The magic in the mark is starving. You said you are not a mage. Yet, it needs magic. It hungers for it. The demons simply provided it a nice meal.”

Evelyn's excitement waned, first slowly, then all at once. “Then...what happens when it can no longer 'feed' on them?”

“I do not know.” The silence weighed heavily on both of them, as they continued to the entrance of the cave systems.

"Dear Maker, it's fucking freezing." Deyra nodded, agreeing. Skyrim, in all its bitter glory, prepared her for cold. But, even then, only Winterhold seemed to have ever been as cold and clawing as it was outside. The Bosmer looked down at the ripped and stained rags she wore, (at least she had shoes!), and then looked to the semi-winter appropriate clothes that the Herald wore.

"And yet, we must go on if we do not want to die in these caves." Deyra paused and took a deep breath. " **YOR TOOR SHUL** " Her shout sent ripples through the air for a moment. Then, a massive fireball bellowed forth from her mouth. The Herald squeaked. For several yards in front of them, the snow had evaporated.

“Andraste's tits, that's amazing!”

 

Deyra swallowed down the small amount of blood that the Shout brought to her mouth. "Yes. That is part of the magic I still have access to." Together, they stepped out into the open. It hurt. Everything was numb within seconds. Yet still, they pressed on, tired, weary, and frozen. Deyra's body was still slowly knitting itself back together. Walking was becoming easier, but she felt Evelyn's shivers. So, she kept her arm other she smaller woman's shoulder. The wind bit through both of their clothes. By the time they had reached the end of where the snow had melted from her Shout, both women could hardly move.

It felt like hours had passed.

They kept walking, trying to head up the mountain. Every once in a while, when her screaming throat let her, Deyra let out another Shout that melted everything. It provided them much needed warmth, small as the comfort was. There was nothing they could see. No trees. No rocks. Nothing.

Just as they were giving up, they tripped over a frozen campfire. Evelyn keened in the back of her throat. “Can you light it?”

Deyra frowned at it. There was hardly any wood left. “ **YOL** ” She Shouted again. It caught. The Human fell to her knees, huddling over the fire as close as she could. Deyra was fast to join her. Together they sat there for a small period of time. When the wood finally truly burned out, they stood. Deyra pointed up the mountain. “They must have taken this path. They had to.” Her voice was steel, leaving no doubt. With that, Deyra led Evelyn up the mountain.

"I have a twin sister," Evelyn spoke out of nowhere, through chattering teeth.

“ **YOL TOOR SHUL** ” Deyra wheezed out again. Blood was trickling out of her mouth now, making a glittering red path down her face and throat. “Hah! Truly?” Her voice was unrecognizable even to her own ears. She chuckled. “So long as she doesn't randomly find me in another city, I think I'll be ok with that.”

The Human glanced at her. “That's...happened to you?”

Deyra nodded. "Truly. It was pretty funny after everything was said and done." They kept walking as the spoke. A tree line was starting to become visible. " **LOK VAH KOOR”** The air cleared, snow no longer whipping them in the face. They were closer to the trees than Deyra thought.

“And a brother.” Evelyn's voice was getting weaker. They were almost in the tree line now, and the wind was starting to pick up again. The woman's head was starting to tip downwards, and walking was becoming a struggle. Deyra was supporting her almost fully now.

“Just a bit farther now, Eve.” The Human had stopped shivering. “No. No, no, no. Not yet. Come on Eve!” Evelyn became a dead weight.

Deyra managed to drag into the trees. Wolves howled, not far off. The Bosmer smiled and tipped her head back, answering their call with one of her own. Within minutes, a pack came bursting from deeper in the trees. She smiled wearily. The alpha pair came up to her, standing firm before her. Her smile fell, and a savage snarl ripped through her ravaged throat.

The pair bowed to her. Reaching a numb hand out, Deyra cupped the shoulder of the male and leaned against him. "Please, my friend. Find the other ones who traversed this mountain earlier. I cannot make it much farther right now." Her hand shimmered a soft blue as she ran it from snout to tail over the wolf. He stiffened, then snorted, tail flicking. Then he turned to his pack.

Deyra leaned back against the tree, eyes closed. She let out an oomph as a wolf leaned against her. With a sigh, she helped Evelyn's slumped body rest on the ground and then curled herself around the human. Then, the whole wolf pack curled around them, keeping them warm. It was a struggle to not fall asleep. She knew if she did, it would be that much more difficult to get back up again.

She thought she felt eyes on her. Briefly, she leaned up and looked around. There was nothing there aside from the wolves, but she still had to urge to snarl. Sighing, she laid back down, ignoring the feeling. It did help her keep more awake, either way. Laying with the wolves on top and around them was helping. Evelyn's shivering returned. (As did her own, if she truly wanted to acknowledge that she stopped.) The wind howled through the trees.

The wolves began to get agitated, growling and baring their fangs in the direction their alpha went in. One by one they began to pick themselves up and wander away. The alpha female licked Deyra's cheek before following her pack, leaving the two women alone.

“-rald!” Her frozen ears twitched. Was that...? “Herald!” It was!

"Cullen!" She yelled as loud as she could through her torn up throat, even letting some of the Voice seep into it. "In the tree line!" She tried to stand on frozen legs, dragging the Herald up with her. She staggered forward, ignoring everything except the man's voice. She stumbled and finally could see him. Cullen, followed by Solas and Cassandra, were being led by the wolf. Seeing that he had fulfilled his duty, the wolf took off. The three rushed toward her.

“Praise the Divines, and the Daedra.” She mumbled as Cullen plucked the Herald from her grip. Almost reverently, he scooped up the young woman. Cassandra stepped towards Deyra and helped her stand.

She giggled, almost drunkenly, “What, not gunna carry me like Ser Prince Charming is?” Cassandra's lip curled in disgust.

Solas ran glowing hands over the Herald. "Small injuries. Cracked ribs, bruising, but nothing life threatening." Cullen nodded and began walking back to where they came from.

Solas did the same to Deyra. His lips thinned in what seemed like fury. She flopped her head to the side so she could stare at him. Then, she reached her hand up and poked him in the middle of the forehead, laughing at his stunned expression. “No frowny face!” Her vision swam in and out of focus.

Her eyes drooped, and she fought to keep conscious. Finally, when she could fight it no more, her eyes fluttered shut. She dropped into dead weight, almost taking the Seeker down with her. Cullen refused to set Evelyn down, so Deyra ended up on Cassandra's back, being carried piggy-back style.  
  


* * *

_Fires. There were fires everywhere. Bodies- dead, mangled, half-eaten. Some were still alive. Most wished they weren't. Lesser Daedra ran everywhere. Screams. Her axe ripped through them. BURNINGburningpain. Lava all around her. More Daedra. The steady thwack thwack thwack of her arrows. She picked up the key and everything exploded outwards. MAR- A white wolf with six blue eyes.  
_

* * *

 

 

Deyra choked on her scream as she woke. Haven had reminded her of things she would rather forget.

There was a tent canvas over her. Good, she had not imagined being rescued. Her stomach felt empty, and her throat was raw and as dry as the Ala'kir Desert. She went to sit up, only to find her hands were bound again. (As were her ribs, thankfully.) There was a chill bite in the air. So, perhaps she was still in the mountains then. People stood right outside the tent. Soldiers, perhaps, judging on the sound of armor and weapons shifting.

The Herald was almost shouting, sounding angry. "Leliana, I told you-you cannot just keep her as a prisoner! She did everything in her power to save me."

"You also said she died. People do not just come back from dying! She must be a demon! We do not even know what she is, or where she came from. I should not have let her have a weapon in the first place. What is she is an ally to Corypheus?"

Deyra groaned and tapped her head on the ground once in frustration. Of course, everything would come back to bite her in the ass. Evelyn was not in charge here. (Not yet, a dark whisper said in the back of her mind.) She stared down at her tied hands. She could easily slip out of them and even get away. She had plenty of experience starting from scratch. Again, something in the back of her mind told her not to. She hit the ground again. Who was she to argue with destiny?

She tried to speak and ask for water. The sound that came out of her could barely be classified as human.

Almost immediately, the flaps were thrown open and a fresh gust of icy air was let in. “You are awake.” the angry red head came in, swiftly followed by Evelyn. “You did not answer my question before. What are you? Who sent you?”

Evelyn glared at Leliana and kneeled next to Deyra. She pulled a flask from her hip and held it to the Elf's lips. Deyra could not stop the small moan of relief as the water hit her parched mouth and throat. She didn't move away from it until she had drunk every drop. She moved her hands to Evelyn's wrists. "Thank you, my friend."

Leliana cleared her throat, looking pointedly at Evelyn. Deyra sneered at the redhead. "I told you. I am from a place called Nirn, on the continent Tamriel, from, most recently, Skyrim. As for who sent me? I answered that already. The dragon I fell into this world with. Alduin. It is my destiny to kill him. To stop him from eating Nirn." She snarled at Leliana. "I am a Bosmer-Wood Elf. I know nothing of this place. I do not even know what this place, this world- or the land we are on for that matter- is called."

Leliana opened her mouth to retaliate, but the Herald cut her off. “Leliana!”

Leliana's mouth pinched into a colorless line. “Fine. But this is on your head, Herald.” The title was almost filled with poison. She turned to Deyra. “I will be watching. Always.” She stormed out of the tent.

“You do not need to make enemies for my sake, Evelyn.”

“Just Eve is fine.” Deyra smiled and nodded. “I know trusting you may not be the smartest idea. And, she is right. People just don't come back from being dead. But....” She was quiet a moment. “Something is telling me to trust you. You haven't given me any reason to doubt that.” Eve untied the ropes from her wrists. “You have been unconscious for days. We are almost at Skyhold, the place where we can rest and rebuild.” Then, without letting Deyra speak another word, Eve walked out of the tent.

Deyra sat there a moment, rubbing her wrists. She was being tied up here far too often, and not the good kind of being tied up. With a sigh, she heaved herself up, standing on shaky legs. By the time she left the tent, the guards that had been standing in front had left.

There were several fires going. Her eyes narrowed when she saw that the Humans had separated themselves from the Elves. Or, perhaps it was vice-versa, or even a mutual thing. Regardless, there was clearly a divide between the two. Carefully, she made her way to the Elves. If she was going to get started on people liking her, she may as well start with those who, at least on the most basic level, shared traits with her. Most regarded her warily as she approached the fire. Still, they moved aside and made room for her. She sat before the blaze, shivering.

The adults all froze as a young child sprinted up to her. The young boy stared at her intently, and she stared right back. “You are very strange looking for an Elf...Are you half Human?” He reached up to touch the ridges over her eyes. She ducked her head, allowing him.

Her shoulders shook from hiding her laughter. She liked children- they were very blunt. “Nay, youngling.” His face screwed up at the nickname. “Where I am from, many Elves look like me.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Why, there are even some who are larger than the Humans here!”

“No!” He gasped in amazement.

“Yes!”

He stared at her wide-eyed, then ran off, shouting "Mamae! Mamae!" She watched him with a look of fondness on her face. She ignored the Elves that began to talk among themselves.

“Many are surprised. They did not expect you to let the boy near you, let alone touch you.”

"Ah, Solas. I had wondered where you were." She did not miss that the Elves seem to make themselves scarce when the mage came up to her. "Children's curiosity and lack of judgment are refreshing." She grinned at the boy, who was talking with a parent, flailing his arm in her direction.

“An apt description.” Ah, so he was going for mysterious. Maybe in hopes she would cling to him.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

An Elvhen couple that sat nearest to the fire started making a commotion. Both Deyra and Solas stared, as did most everyone in the camp. "My baby! My baby!" Deyra stood abruptly and pushed past the growing mob of people, Solas on her heel. The mother turned to Solas, holding a small child out to him. Her lips were blue, as were her fingers. Solas scanned the child with his magic.

“I...I am so sorry...” He seemed at a loss for words, grief-struck.

Deyra frowned harshly. Sweat beaded on her brow and she reached for the spark of her magic and pulled with all of her will. She held her hand over the babe. “It's soul has not yet left its body.” Everyone stared at her now, Solas raising an eyebrow. “May I try something?” The parents were distraught.

"What can help now?" The child's father asked.

“Perhaps nothing, perhaps everything. But not unless you let me try. Now!”

“Please do anything!” The mother held the babe to her.

Deyra picked up the small, maybe year old child. "She got too cold... didn't she?" The father held his wife, nodding. She tugged even harder at the spark. Unbeknownst to her, her eyes began to shimmer. She sang voice rumbling and shaking the air, power in every breath she took.

“ _Brit hahnu gein_  
Nahlass wah zu'u  
Shul ahrk su  
Los saraan hi

_Brit hahnu gein_  
Jud sedii lovaas  
Hon ahrk Nahl  
Wahdi Thu'um lovass”  


For a moment, it seemed like nothing happened. She kept focus on the babe, trying to feel for a pulse. A shudder. Then another. Finally, the child seemed to jerk, and then inhale deeply. Quickly, she brought him closer to the fire, hugging him close.

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

No one seemed to know how to react. Solas approached her, cautiously. He checked the child again. He looked at her in wonder, eyes sparkling. “How....”

"Her soul had not left. I... all I did was ask her to wake up, beg her, in truth." Suddenly, she felt like she was seventy-five again, still young and nervous. She flushed, and pushed the child back into its parent's arms, and all but ran away.

The back of her neck prickled. She ignored the stares. She needed to be away, to have space. The close quarters in the camp were not what she was used to. Deyra hid behind some tents, sitting on the icy ground. Huddled behind the tent, she hid from everyone until she was numb and shivering. Someone dropped next to her. The smell of ink and paper wafted over her.

“I...I don't do well in groups.” She wanted to get away. She needed it. To drop the loose tether humanity held on her. To run, and be FREE.

“I'm not sure even I have words for what happened, Flame. That was...” She sensed, more than saw, him shake his head.

But she couldn't run. Couldn't leave. Because she knew. She KNEW that she would never be welcomed back unless in chains. Leliana would ensure that. So, she had to stay. As much as she hated it.

She looked up at the 'Dwarf”. “What is your name?”

"Me?" He gestured extravagantly at himself. "Varic Tethris, story-teller, a fellow prisoner," his whole body language and tone softened, "and friendly shoulder. At your service"

She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "You were ready to shoot me a few days ago."

Varic looked at her strangely. “No one told you?” She looked at him and cocked her head to the side. “Flame, you have been sleeping for almost a full week now.”

Her mouth hung open. “What?” Varic nodded.

“You had a lot of damage... The Herald told us all what happened.” He shook his head at her again. “I'm not sure what you are,” He held a hand up to stop her from talking, “I know you say you're a Bosmer, but...you are more than that. You are something.” His eyes bit into her deeply (but not deep enough, a voice whispered), searching hard, but not unkind. “Just maybe, between you and the Herald... Maybe you two are what Thedas needs right now.” He grinned slyly at her. “And, besides. I write stories! People eat this shit up.” She threw her head back and laughed.

Loud noises began coming from the campsite behind them. Even through the commotion, the Elf and Dwarf sat in silence. It wasn't until the tent behind them started to be town down that Varic spoke again. "Solas says it will be near midday when we get to the hold that's up here in these Maker-forsaken mountains." He looked her up and down. "When was the last time you ate? Or actually slept for that matter. Not passed out from pain or death, or any variation in between."

Deyra opened her mouth to answer. And then closed it immediately. Her brows furrowed as the thought. “I assume someone fed me when I was knocked out? As for sleep, True Sleep, it has been a long while. I am tired.” And, truly, she felt the weight of exhaustion weigh down on her as she spoke.

The Dwarf stared at her. And kept staring. A blush started to form high on her cheeks. Varic released a soul-weary sigh, and reached into his bag, digging around for a moment. He pulled a small bundle out and thrust it at her. "Eat this Flame. You need some food." He angrily stormed away, leaving her sitting there bewildered. She smiled softly and ran a finger softly down the package. She opened it. It was a jerky that smelled amazing. She brought one to her mouth and nibbled on it. It tasted just as good as it smelled. Her stomach cramped from hunger, and she inhaled the entire gift.

By the time she finished, the camp had been packed. Half the people (the humans, she noted dryly,) looked at her with a mix of hatred, fear, and apprehension. The Elves looked at her with the start of devotion in their eyes and beckoned her over to them. The groups stayed mostly separate.

There was still much ground to cover. The animals were loaded and seemed to keep the divide between the Humans and Elves. Far in the distance, Deyra could see Solas and Eve leading. Someone handed her a walking stick, as she was still limping softly. Before she could thank them, they had already moved ahead, and she lost them in the crowd. She looked forward again, with a feeling of something blooming in her chest. Something the had felt before, many times. The start of a Destiny.

They crested over a ridge, everyone gathering together. There, far below them, was a castle. Eve started addressing everyone, standing high on a ridge. But Deyra's ears buzzed too loudly for her to hear. There was some magic afoot in that building. It tasted old, powerful. It was exactly like the wet blanket that covered this world, but not. Something had been done here.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1  
> Brit hahnu gein  
> Nahlass wah zu'u  
> Shul ahrk su  
> Los saraan hi  
> Brit hahnu gein  
> Jud sedii lovaas  
> Hon ahrk Nahl  
> Wahdi Thu'um lovass
> 
> Dovah Translation:  
> Beautiful dream(ing) one  
> Alive(Awaken) to I  
> Sun and Air  
> are await(ing) you  
> Beautiful dream(ing) one  
> Queen of my Song  
> listen and become living  
> to my Shout-Song

**Author's Note:**

> 1 Da'len  
> Child, Young Person~(Ancient Elvhen)  
> 2Ma odill na sing, che?  
> What Land is here(this), Elf?~(Bosmeri/Aelidoon Language)  
> 3 Angua can! Angua can na vasha!  
> My magic! My magic is gone!~(Bosmeri/Aelidoon Language)  
> 4 Deyra!  
> Deadra!~(Draconic)


End file.
